No Bells Were Tolling
by Eloria Windrider
Summary: This is about Maisry, the maid, who left the plauge-infested town of Skendgate and what happened to her. Based on the Doomsday Book by Connie Willis


Chapter One  
The small chestnut horse pricked her ears forward and put her head down to chew on a small grass patch. Her rider, an ugly looking servant girl with greasy hair yelped and jerked hard on the rein she was frantically trying to keep a hold of.  
"Come on you stupid beast," Maisry said between her clenched teeth. She kicked the horse's flanks with all the strength her two stick-like legs could muster. She yanked on the reins again, even harder than before.  
"I must get into those woods." Maisry once again kicked the horse, and finally got it moving forward. Maisry began to relax a little as the pair wove their way in and out of the ash trees surrounding the small village they once called home. Maisry planned to travel through the woods until they could be sure that no one would follow them in search of the horse she stole.  
The snow crunched beneath the horse's hooves, and Maisry looked around at the woods that encircled her. She knew these woods well for she had often played in them when she was young. She would ride east through the forest for about a day. That would lead her to a small country road which was used by shepherds to herd their sheep to market. Taking this road north, she would flee to Scotland, where Lady Katherine had mentioned was not touched by this pestilence that seemed to terrorize every township. I must escape all that death. Babies and children were dying. Mothers and fathers as well. Seeing those people in such pain will be something I will remember forever. Maisry had seen people die before, but it never in such quantity, and in such pain. She shuddered at the thought of all the deaths, and became nauseas when she thought of the dead, blistered, bloody bodies. Why does the Lord torture the innocent so? I thought that only sinners would have the Lord's wrath inflicted upon them. It seems this pestilence does not care if you are a sinner or not.  
Maisry kicked the mare into a trot. Happy to be outside and out of her stall, the horse willingly moved forward. I must be quick Maisry thought. And I must not be seen. Lady Katherine said this pestilence travels from person to person. I must not talk or mingle with any strangers for they might carry it.  
Hours passed and Maisry and the horse trudged on through the slush and snow. Maisry had the horse barely under control and many times the mare decided to trot over to some shrubbery or bush and start eating. Maisry's hands were swollen and bleeding from yanking on the reins, and her clothes torn from being caught on twigs and branches. Night fell, and still afraid of a possible follower, the pair continued on. Maisry barely blinked as they walked through the wood at night. She had to keep a sharp look out for wolves or cutthroats, like the ones that had attacked Lady Katherine. To compensate for her left ear in which she was deaf, Maisry turned her head frequently so she could hear on both sides. Why did Lady Imeyne box my ears so? So I would loose Agnes and not do as they asked. That does not mean that I deserved to be beaten. No lord or lady will ever do that to me again, Maisry thought as she rubbed her right ear.  
At that moment Maisry heard rustling to her right. She stared over her shoulder wondering what it could have been. It must be a wolf.or worse! Someone could be following me! At this thought, her palms became sweaty, and her heart raced. Then, the horse stopped dead in its tracks, and pricked its ears forward, turning right. It snorted, and began pawing the ground. Afraid that the horse might throw her, Maisry started yelling at it.  
"You get moving again pony! Move now! Come.on!" At that Maisry kicked and yanked the reins at the same moment, yet the mare still did not budge. Then, she heard the rustling again, and then again. A twig snapped. Suddenly, Maisry began to shake, her eyes wide with terror. The horse started to fidget, and then spin around and around. Maisry was barely able to hold on and was shrieking. Between the rustling and the screaming, the horse figured it had to be in danger, and bolted. Running through the woods at a gallop, with Maisry holding on wailing and screaming wildly, the chestnut mare dodged trees and jumped logs. Only one thought was going through Maisry's head: I'm going to die. I'm going to die.  
Chapter Two The horse came to a stop in front a small creek. Sides heaving and nostrils flaring, it bent down to take a drink. Maisry finally pried one eye open, and sat up. Where am I? Maisry thought. Then, she looked straight in front of her and saw a small country road. It was covered with at least six inches of untouched snow and tress and bushes seemed to be consuming parts of the trail. Am I on a road? Maisry pondered. Maisry looked behind here. She saw a narrow passage way leading through the wood with one set of fresh hoof prints in the snow. It looked as if someone had run through the bramble and thicket that bordered the trail. Well, since someone else used this road recently, it must be going north. No one would go south where the pestilence is. This must be the road I should take then. Maisry smiled, happy with her logical reasoning, and nudged her mare forward across the stream and onto the intact snow. "I must be in need of sleep, for there is a pounding in my head," Maisry said out loud. She put her dirty hand to her forehead and rubbed her eyes. "And the bright light from the sun and snow is hurting my eyes." Maisry followed this small road for three days, only sleeping whenever she found a large enough ash tree to curl up under. I need to rest more often Maisry thought one night as she got up from a quick nap untangled the reins from a bush in which she tied the chestnut. I am beginning to feel hot and weary from the all this moving about. She barely ate as it was, and already her food supplies were growing low, for she only had time to grab a loaf of bread, a jug of water and a few apples from the kitchen before she ran away. Maisry had included a few oats in her saddle pack for the horse, but one night when she didn't tie her up properly, the mare had ravaged the feed, and now was forced to graze on the local vegetation for meals. The twosome could not last much longer. Eventually, the small road ended, and Maisry simply took the next one she found. All the roads were barren. No tracks could be seen on the freshly fallen snow, let alone any people. The silence began to scare even Maisry who could not hear anything half the time anyway. She could not even hear a death toll from some nearby village. The horse merely trudged on, stopping every so often to eat a patch of grass, and then started trotting forward again. Maisry was a rag doll, flopping about in the saddle with no control of the horse's actions what so ever. Even though the bitter cold ate through her thin cotton clothing, Maisry felt as if her head was on fire. Her eyes were glazed now, and her mouth a scorching red. Her clothes became drenched in sweat. She had not noticed, but a bump was beginning to form on the left side of her neck.  
Chapter Three It had been eight days since she had stole Agnes's pony and fled into the woods. She had frostbite on both feet, was terribly weak from the lack of food, and the bump on her neck had swollen to the size of a grapefruit. The skin surrounding it was black, while the lump itself was a bright red. Maisry just clung to her senses. "I.it must be.it is the pestilence." Maisry stuttered. "The pestilence has befallen me. Like all the others. I am going to die. Yet there is not Lady Katherine.to help me. I shall not go to heaven because I there is no one. to hear my sins." Right then, she began wailing and crying like a madwoman. Her shrieks became abrupt and sudden, making no coherent sense. "Alone! All Alone! Like the others! Pestilence! Alone.Like the others! Without help! Lady Katherine! Alone.pestil.pestilence...help.no one here.."  
  
Maisry fell off the horse in a bundle on the side of the road. Realizing it was free, the mare galloped off down the road until it was no longer visible. There was no one in sight: no town, no fields, not even any tracks on the snow ahead. There was no sound either: no birds, no leaves crackling in the cold winter wind. There were no bells tolling. Maisry curled up, her arms holding her legs and gently rocked herself back and forth.  
"There is no help. I am alone," Maisry uttered, and soon after she stopped rocking.  
A gentle wind blew, blowing dead leaves over her dead body and then once again the silence filled the air. 


End file.
